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I nod. “Facts.”
“Then, why do it?”
“I need money to, I don’t know, not starve to death.”
“Seems legit.” He swipes his beer from the bar. “I’ll make sure to order my drinks from you, so you can have a cheeseburger tomorrow.”
I roll my eyes. “Very funny.”
His phone beeps. He reads the screen, laughs, and shows it to me. “Oh, he’s most definitely coming.”
Kyle: Is my sister working there?
My mouth turns dry, and I pour myself a water while groaning. “Great. The masses have already started gossiping.”
He slaps his palm against the bar. “Good luck, little one.”
I chug the water and refill my glass. Just as I’m about to finish it off, Kyle bursts through the crowd.
“You. Me. Talking now.” He shoots his thumb toward the kitchen area.
My gaze darts toward Maliki, who gives me a silent nod, as if he knew Kyle would show up. I slam down my water and circle around the bar. Kyle is talking behind me, but I ignore him and take us to the back office.
I slam the door shut when we make it there. “Seriously? You’re going to get me fired!” I haven’t finished one shift, and I’m already bringing drama into the workplace.
My brother looks nothing like me. His hair is darker, taking after my father. He’s built, strong, but he has nothing on Maliki.
Sorry, big brother.
He folds his arms over his chest and places his glare on me. “A. Maliki won’t fire you. B. What the fuck is going on? Since when are you a bartender?”
I swallow hard, tears approaching. “Devin cheated on me.”
“That son of a bitch,” he hisses, straightening his stance. “Good.”
“Good? How the hell is my husband cheating on megood?”
“I can kick his ass now. He’s always annoyed me.”
“Seriously, Kyle, don’t touch him.”
His face tightens. “I should’ve known he was a joke when he wore loafers to a barbeque.” He balls up his fist. “I’m going to kill him.”
Even though he works in law enforcement, he’d have no problem roughing Devin up. Being the oldest, he’s protective of our family, especially now with everything that happened. His relationship with a woman who carries serious baggage has made him more vigilant.
“You’re not killing anyone,” I say. “Last I heard, inmates don’t like police officers in their block. Do you know how bored you’d be when they stuck you in solitary confinement?”
My joke eases some of the tension on his face, and he blows out a breath that calms him further.
“Thanks for the tip, little sister, but I won’t go to prison for punching him a few times.”
“I want it to be done and move on with my life.”
“So, you found out your husband cheated, and instead of coming to your family, you ran to Maliki?”
That does sound crappy. It takes me a moment to reply to his question. “Yep,” I finally croak out.
He’s mentioned how much time I spend with Maliki several times, and I’ve always blown him off—the same as with everyone.
